Premonitions of Grey - Discontinued
by le-jhake
Summary: Discontinued - Bryce Cousland's and various others take on the early life of the second Cousland child leading up to Rendon Howe's eventual betrayal.
1. Chapter 1

A very distraught father paced the halls outside of the healer's chamber. He paused again to look at the blue and olive banners that flew in the wind above the high turrets of the keep. A storm from the Waking Sea was long overdue shown by the grey skies giving their customary omen, a distant thunderclap, but this didn't phase the man. Something usually more subtle drew the man's gaze to the door. Noise from the chamber seemed to suddenly abate and he quickly made his way to the portal, hopeful that his next child had been finally brought into the world. He hovered patiently as the pause in the groans and cries of a woman in distress continued, only to hear them begin again with his wife's pain and fatigue more apparent in each breath. The now even further distraught man quickly resumed his route. At three paces aside the door-frame, he'd pivot and reverse course, and continued for several circuits until a flash of amber hair quickly retreating behind the corner of a building caught the man's eye.

The man scowled after catching a glimpse of his first son peeking around the corner of the freestanding hall. The lad was barely four and already too interested in things beyond his years. Whenever Maric and his boy visited them, Fergus always tried to take his daggers to play that they were swords. With his boy's size, it wasn't too difficult for him to pretend he was some great knight on a personal quest from his King, whom Cailan was glad to portray in his father's stead. He'd hoped that that wouldn't have to pass while his son lived, but knowing better.

The nobleman spun quickly as he heard that his wife's cries had again abated. However there was no silence to replace them, as the squall of a newborn overtook the cries of joy from its mother. He couldn't open the door to the healer's chamber quickly enough though the Templar held the door until the healer had finished the worst of the work. When the rather immovable mage-watcher finally opened the door, to the teyrn's relief, the midwife who had helped his wife brought his swaddled child to his outstretched arms.

"Bryce," Eleanor nearly wheezed, half way across the rather spacious chamber, propped against a cheap mattress of straw stuffed cloth, and clearly exhausted, though the ecstacy and pride of seeing her husband cradle their child in his arms clearly shone through her tired visage. The magus who had done her best to aid the midwife and Teyrna rose from her seat behind the new mother, and the accompanying Templar eyed the mage suspiciously but made no moves toward her. The midwife finished for the teyrna who was barely awake.

"Your lordship, I present your daughter, the new teyrnessa of Highever." Much to the man's surprise, his wife had borne him a daughter. The midwives he'd brought for Eleanor had been convinced that the teryna was expecting another boy, but it mattered little to Bryce Cousland; he would dote over his daughter much as his wife had done over their son. The Teyrn's child cried even though held to her father's warmth in his firm embrace.

"Shh, sh shshshhh, pup, all is well, your mother and I are both here. See, she's right over there." His calm voice easily soothed the newborn teyrnessa. Teyrn Cousland held his daughter close walking and then sitting next to his better half. His wife practically beaming at her husband and new child.

"I have waited long to see your face, little one. You have brought joy to your mother and I, and I soon think you'd bring that same joy to your people. That much is long overdue." Bryce spoke then to his wife, "I suppose the easy part is over now, love."

"Rich, coming from the man who..."

"Paced outside for seven hours while you got to sit down here," Bryce chuckled as he was swatted by Eleanor. Bryce knew his wife had struggled bringing the young one into the world, but now was a time for levity and happiness. The distant storm made itself known again before the Teyrna spoke

"What should we name her, Bryce?"

\--

The Revered Mother, Mallol, from Highever town had been making a her way to the castle when she received the teyrn's summons in the early dawn, She had authorized the Templar and resident healer from a nearby local Chantry Monastery to come to the Teyrna's aid. The entire hold had been waiting with baited breath for news on the Teyrna and the then unborn child. She was glad that she had received summons when she did. Even with the time she had gained, the waiting for the Templar and healer more than took its toll over two days. She had finally settled in at the castle's tucked away chantry for an afternoon prayer when the young Templar re-entered the sanctuary, mage in tow.

"The Teyrn comes with his Wife and daughter to have them blessed, Revered Mother." She remembered being called a year earlier to bless mother and newborn only to give the infant it's last rites.

"Wonderful, Ser Boris, Show them in when they arrive." The Revered Mother readied the altar in the Chantry to hold a newborn babe. It wasn't everyday that their liege welcomed another heir to his holdings, and the political implications of said infant being a girl were nothing light. Teyrn Loghain had had a daughter nearly 7 years earlier and Would doubtlessly try to curry favor with Maric by promising her to Cailan, but now Bryce Cousland held a much better, much younger asset wrapped in soft Amaranthine wool.

The Revered Mother offered a silent prayer in memory to those who had died securing Ferelden during the war against Orlais, hoping the Maker would cast his gaze upon the Noble House of Highever to watch over its newest addition. She would repeat the sentiment later in front of the Teyrn and Teyrna. Her prayer was interrupted by the door's opening and she rose and turned to seen those entering the Chantry.

The Teyrn and his wife were preceded by a spry but aging knight wearing a suit of dull grey and navy splint-mail, sans the bascinet he held between his hip and hand. The dark haired man quickly moved to hold the door into the castle chantry with a single arm. It was wholly unusual for someone of that rank to precede the second most powerful man in Ferelden into any room, much less a Chantry in his own castle.

The Revered Mother began to scowl and prepared to scold the knight for intruding on a family's personal affair, but Bryce's reaction held the priestess's nagging in check, as did the glimpse of a Gryffon on the higher part of his breastplate.

"Ser Duncan...".

"An honour, as always, Teyrn Cousland, I hear congratulations are in order."

\--

OOC: Just testing the waters with this, we'll see how things go from here. Reviews and Faves will prompt me to write more, please leave any feedback, I appreciate the time you took to read it.

Just showing Bryce Cousland some attention with this. I wanted to flesh out more of the character of Ferelden's second most powerful man, Until that unpleasantness at Ostagar. His dedication to his family was really just passed over in game and the man's political savy and moderation in disputes has to be impressive for the Cousland family to be so well respected over the tenure of the teyrn's reign even to Howe's eventual betrayal.

As for good ol' Duncan, He, even as a senior Warden would have to play the game of pleading for patrons for the Grey with their recent readmission to Ferelden in order to secure funds and grounds for a compound, twenty years to make Warden-Commander? I think Duncan could do it.

This is set around twenty years before the 5th Blight by-the-by.

Edit : just some typos, names, and flow of sentence issues corrected


	2. Chapter 2

\--

"We lift up this new Life, sent from you," The Revered Mother continued to recite the Canticle of Dedication

"We lift up this new Life, sent from you," The pious parents followed.

"To ever glorify You, and perform works as to turn your gaze upon her in life as Andraste.". the three continued in their respective turns. The parents had no need to rehearse the lines ine the days leading up to the dedication of their newborn child. they had remembered well enough from Fergus' dedication nearly four years prior.

"May our prayers be like sweet song to you, Maker." Mallol finished, "Lord and Lady Cousland, I bless your daughter Elissa for her role and life to come. May she both embrace and aspire to the nobility her names carry in all that she does. So let it be.

"So let it be" finished the parents seemingly finalizing the blessing as if it would hover over their daughter and never touch her if they failed to secure it. Elissa cooed as her father took her from the primitive altar in the chantry. Her older brother and land owners of note in the northern half of Ferelden including Arls Howe and Bryland and Bann Loren with his wife Landra, comrades of Bryce's from the war against Orlais, each took turns holding her and speaking a near silent blessing over her. Each of the visitors had arrived with few retainers so as to ensure their quick arrival. They would each take the Teyrn's multiple guest rooms in the castle for their own for a few days to pay homage to the teyrnessa. Mallol knew of her own parents' heritage and she was glad to have been their second daughter for reasons such as this.

\--

As the sun's time waned Teyrn Cousland walked to the dining hall to the feast in his newborn daughter's honour, and made a care to pass the larder, if nothing else to smell the sow they had roasting on the spit in the kitchens. He heard near silent sobbing from a woman just opposite the larder door, near the door to a set of servant's quarters.

"Good woman, what troubles you?" The Teyrn dropped any airs that he usually carried. As he approached her, the woman glanced up at him, and her cheeks seemed to go a shade paler when she saw who had spoken to her.

"Your Lordship! I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was you. I was just-"

"Good woman, I'm not interested at the platitudes you'd hurl at me. What is wrong?". Bryce spoke firmly. He and his family always did what was necessary and didn't deign to reap glory from that which had to be done, even if it was simply being. To the Teyrn's concern the woman let out a sob.

"My son, your Grace, my babe came into this world... dead, nigh on a year ago. He never saw light of the Maker's creation. I just can't understand why - why the Maker would deny me the son he gave my husband and I." The words struck Bryce Cousland as a mace to his chest. He saw the despair his wife had morosely shared a year before in the woman's face. His own thoughts focused, remembering Eleanor had spent nearly three months sleeping in the nursery they had prepared for their son Aedan, out of fear of having let her husband down. The boy only lived for eight hours, despite the work of a healer sent for from the Kinloch Circle. The babe had been born too early, almost two months so.

"Good woman, I know your pain, losing a newborn," the nobleman squatted beside the crying servant and placed his hands on her shoulders, "Sometimes the Maker only gives us a short time to care for something that he has deemed too precious to live anywhere but at his side, but we must be grateful of the time we did have. I held my second son in my arms when he left to be with the Maker, and I'm sure your child is at the Maker's side as well. It is hard, sometimes, seeing my Elissa in her cradle and thinking how it would have been different had my second boy lived to see her. But I take comfort in knowing that The Maker doesn't turn innocents away from walking with him." Bryce pulled a small square of cloth from a pocket as the woman's sobs began to abate.

"May I know your name? I'm sure Eleanor would want to share the joy of our child to one so needing of it."

"My name is Anna, milord, but, my brother's boys just call me Nan. Far be it from me to pry, but, why would you deign to know a commoner by name, your Grace?"

"Because my daughter happens to require a nursemaid. Would you happen to know anyone who could serve?" The Lord Cousland jested, trying to cheer the air. "They'd receive rooming, handsome pay, and meals, of course."

"It would be my honor to serve, your lordship, Maker's blessings on you."

The woman embraced the Teyrn before heading back off into the kitchens doubtlessly in a better state than before the good Teyrn had found her. Bryce paused a moment to consider what he had just agreed to do, and thought, _Eleanor, I hope you dont mind this_ , before rushing to the dining hall to meet with Bann Loren and Arls Bryland and Howe. He silently thanked the Maker that Maric and his boy hadn't arrived yet as he knew the other nobles would try to size her up as a match for one of their own sons. He personally wanted to wait a good long while before having to decide anything.

\--

 _Teyrn Cousland stood alone over a frost covered_ _field; bones strewn about haphazardly as a fork set aside after dinner, denoting the sorry fate of the now lost souls. A weathered Tevinter tower stood in stark solemnity over the field and fortress as if a marker of a mass grave with the bitter remains of embers barely burning at the summit of the tower. The bridge overlooking the safest route from the Wilds to the Hinterlands held a macabre omen, the body of a young man stripped of all but his small-clothes, with now -pale- blond locks, hung on a cruciform of twisted, blackened iron._

 _A grey sun hung over the scene and blurred the hanged man after the singular glimpse of his features. After what seemed an eternity a voice seemed to ring from the bleak sky_ _with smoke that seemed to come from_ _a funeral pyre._

 ** _What you have seen, so too shall she. Know that Justice will be satisfied. Though his mirror among men seems broken, know the Serpent when this grey glass he seeks will truly be felled by one of its shards._**

 ** _His sin, his vanity, will be his undoing._**

"Maker's Breath!" Bryce Cousland awoke with a start, barely able to recall the waking dream. He had fallen asleep in the great hall with his back pressed against the left half of the room's greater mantle. he was left with a singular phrase from the dream, "justice will be satisfied."

The embers of the fireplace had remained stoked and new logs set ready to place on the coals. He searched the room for a human face and met the steely grey eyes of a Rivanni sitting on a bench, seemingly meditating or asleep. When Bryce went to move the logs and warm himself, the Rivanni seemingly stirred.

"Your Grace, I heard you in your sleep and thought you discontented. What would you say of the dream?" the knight-warden asked, "Or can you even remember the apparitions of the Fade."

"Naught but some quote my father had said when we nearly lost the castle to Howe's uncle and the Orlesians. When Maric hesitated to press Rendon into service of the resistance I firmly recalled him say that if he served, 'justice will be satisfied.' Fitting, wasn't it, at the battle of the White River that I saved Rendon's life?"

"Your Lordship, I would say that the Maker smiles upon repaying a family's wrong with a right. It befits they way you have ruled the teyrnir. You judge based on what actions those before you have done, not by the wrongs their father or grandfather may have wrought. And not to flatter you, but, the way, I think, that your son will when he comes of age when he sees you continue to rule justly."

"Thank you, Warden Duncan. You said you were from Denerim?"

"Yes, your Grace. My family home was just outside the warehouse district next to the docks."

OOC - - pretty good place to wrap up the Chapter, if I do say so, see you next time!


End file.
